paper thin hearts
by Acacia Thorn
Summary: Lipstick stains, mascara streaks, sinfully tangled hair and bloody, bruising kisses. DorcasSirius.


**Author's Notes:** Written for a challenge set by s i l v e r a u r o r a on the Slytherin Corner forum. I meant to use the prompts, _really_, but then I started writing and kind of … forgot? Heh. Sorry. D:

* * *

_paper thin hearts_

by Acacia Thorn

* * *

Lipstick stains, mascara streaks, sinfully tangled hair and bloody, bruising kisses engulf the air surrounding her, painted nails and thin smiles adding to the medley that has come to be known as _Dorcas Meadowes_.

But, listen, shadows don't cling to her _(muchtooperfect)_ curves and sly smirks and dangerous looks just don't come upon her, so what does it matter that her eyes are dazzling and she's dated nearly every boy in the school, because she's not _Slytherin_ and she's not _evil_.

She's just Dorcas Meadowes, the pretty little popular girl with flirty habits and a posse of fans and a couple of friends, maybe.

* * *

He's the handsome _(dark)_ boy that's got three real friends and a mighty opinion, and there always seems to be ink leaking out of his bag and a flurry of disorganized papers around him. He's the kind of boy that she'd look at once, maybe flirt with, and then forget about the next day.

He's just Sirius Black, a child in a man's body or maybe the other way around, and he's not changing for anyone, got that?

* * *

"Stop it."

Dorcas looks up uninterestedly at the boy leaning over her desk, visibly fuming. "Stop what?" she asks innocently.

"That—that _thing_ with Regulus," he says, looking disgusted. "Are you in Gryffindor or not? Have some standards, Meadowes."

Dorcas glares, because there's really not much else for her to do in such a situation. "Are you fucking kidding me, Black? It's none of your business what I'm doing with Regulus. I know you still consider him your baby brother, but according to what I've heard, he disowned you a long time ago."

He scowls. "Dammit, Meadowes—this isn't about _me_ and Regulus, it's about _you_ and Regulus. Which, by the way, has got to stop. He's a _Death Eater_, for Merlin's sake."

"And?" she asks flippantly, challenging him with a stare. "He hasn't done anything bad to _me_, and it's not like we're in love or something."

"Then why don't you dump him already?"

"Why do you _care_ so much?"

"I already told you—he's a Death Eater!"

"That's no good reason, Black."

He huffs indignantly and glares at her, shuffling back to his seat as the teacher walks in.

"We'll talk about this later," he whispers across the room, and thankfully he is not noticed by their ever-oblivious professor.

* * *

Dorcas Meadowes does not like Sirius Black. It's always been like that, and maybe that fact was written down when she decided to go short-skirts and eyelashes on Regulus.

But, even now, she can admit that he's handsome. Especially when he's obviously angry and firelight is hitting the side of his face in a way that isn't natural.

"You are an _idiot_, Black," she tells him earnestly, scooting a little closer on the couch; he makes up for it by shuffling backwards. "I can't believe youmade me wake up at _one_ in the bloody morning just to talk to you."

"Technically, I asked, and you agreed."

She pouts, and repeats, "You're an idiot."

"Well, so are you," he tells her. "I mean, you're dating Reg. Of all the people in Hogwarts, you pick _him_. It's stupid."

"You shouldn't care. You have no _right_ to care."

"Really, now? Is that true?"

She raises her eyebrows. "Oh? We've hated each other since fourth year when _someone_ decided to spill his breakfast all over me. And that was a new shirt, too!" She shakes her head. "Never mind. But, you can't have any of this shit coming out of care for me, so what? Are you that concerned about your baby brother?"

There's silence, and she tries to ignore the (painfully obvious) fact that he's staring at her.

And suddenly his lips are on hers and her hands are fisted in his hair and _she's_ not the one delivering bruised kisses and whispered lies, and somewhere along the line she manages to whisper again that he's an idiot.

* * *

It's back to normal by morning. He doesn't look at her, she doesn't look at him, James is pining over Lily, and everything is completely and utterly normal. But then, there are the small, miniscule details that make her cringe.

He brushes her hand as they walk past each other in the hallway.

He helps her pick up her books after _(not so)_ accidentally bumping into her.

He smiles at her in that very Black-ish way—made even more annoying (even better) by his rogue outcast charm.

Finally, one day, when she's fucking _sick of it_ and ready to tear her hair out, she breaks up with Regulus, using a few choice words, and goes to find his damned brother.

"What the hell, Sirius?" she demands, her red hair falling in her face and suddenly feeling _not_ perfect. They're in an empty classroom—the ideal place for a "date", she thinks hazily—and she's just about ready to use the Cruciatus curse on him.

"What?" he asks innocently enough, but she can see the sly smirk easing its way onto his face. "Don't you like me? I would think so, after that dazzling display of—"

"Just _shut up_, Black!"

He blinks, and then casually pats her shoulder, looking sympathetic. "I see. You feel bad because you're still with Reg."

She jerks back, angry because this isn't how normal boys react to her and it's all so frustrating. "I broke up with Regulus this morning."

He frowns and moves closer; she holds her ground, glaring up at him. "Oh?" he questions, absently brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Then why do you have a problem with this?" He leans down and brushes his lips lightly against hers.

"Because—because it's so _random_. One minute you hate me, the next you act like we're soul-mates! I don't get it."

"Would you believe me if I told you I've always loved you?" he asks, running a thumb across her cheekbone.

She shakes her head impatiently. "Hell no. Tell me the real reason behind all of this. Was it a dare or something?"

"Honestly?"

"Honestly."

He sighs dramatically, drifting away from her and plopping down on a chair, looking defeated. "It's because you look like her."

"Who?"

"_Her_. You've got the red hair, the green eyes—but hers are a little darker. You've got a different nose, too, but I guess I can pretend."

"_Who?"_ she demands, a little insulted and a little bit curious.

"Lily," he says limply, staring at the floor.

And suddenly it's so obvious: the looks, the laughs, the so-very-sweet smiles that just aren't Sirius—he'd done it all for the one girl he couldn't have.

She knows Lily well enough to know that hell, that girl is _all over_ James (no matter how much she denies it) and that Sirius doesn't have a chance, but she doesn't say so. Instead, she meets him with a wet kiss that's got a little too much heat and a little too much sympathy, heightened by the whispered apologies that grace both of their lips.

* * *

It goes on, and she becomes one half of _DorcasandSirius_, the unforgettable couple, the complement to the ever-shining _LilyandJames_. They last past Hogwarts and they have their moments, sure, but she can never really forget that he still thinks she's someone else and that she's only doing this out of sympathy (it's a kind of pathetic way to be, but she's done it so far).

She knows that it's got to end, though, so when they're both trapped at that _(beautifulmagical)_ hellhole of a wedding, where _Lily Evans _becomes _Lily Potter_, and she finds him staring at the bride in such a hopeless way that it's really sort of sad, she breaks _DorcasandSirius_ with a couple of words and a blazing kiss on the cheek.

* * *

In the end, she doesn't love. Her skirts get longer and her makeup less desperate, but she's Dorcas Meadowes and the part of her that was capable of loving someone had died a long time ago.

Sometimes, though, she wonders in her phantom-form, why her last thoughts before death were the ones of warm evenings in Gryffindor Tower and a man (boy) with dark hair and brightbright eyes and smile-lines that never seemed to fade.

So maybe, she concurs as he joins her _(Lily)_ in the afterlife, it wasn't all out of sympathy.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** *winces* It wasn't too bad, right? _Right?_


End file.
